


Tender Age

by clgfanfic



Category: War of the Worlds (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-21
Updated: 2013-02-21
Packaged: 2017-11-30 00:23:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/693216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Debi needs an escort...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tender Age

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Green Floating Weirdness #11 under the pen name Angelica Cooper-Smith.

_"We've got to get another expert."_

 

"Excuse me, sir?"

          Ironhorse fought the budding grin off his lips, cleared his throat and repeated, "I said, Miss McCullough will be attending a social function at her school day after tomorrow and she'll be needing a security escort for the evening.  You're elected, Sergeant."

          Stavrakos' stricken expression was more than a little entertaining, but years of dealing with Pentagon officials and foreign generals had taught Ironhorse to keep his feelings completely under wraps.

          "I don't find this situation amusing," Stavrakos whimpered, adding quickly, "sir."

          "Neither do I, Sergeant."  Ironhorse stalked over, taking up a position in front of the young man.  He leaned closer, almost nose to nose with him.  "Ms. McCullough is at a tender age.  She needs interaction with her peers.  Therefore, dance is important.  She also needs security and an escort.  You might find this assignment a little out of the ordinary—"

          "Sir, I'm a _soldier_ , I—"

          Ironhorse pulled back, and huffed to full height.  "You're Delta Force, Sergeant!  Any time.  Any place.  Any objective.  Remember?"

          "Yes, sir!" Stavrakos snapped, drawing up into attention.  His shoulders immediately slumped.  "But a dance?  For kids?  The Army didn't train me for _that_ kind of action, sir."

          The colonel paced around the rigid sergeant.  "I'm not asking for volunteers, Stavrakos.  The decision's been made.  Someone has to take point, and you're the man.  Oh, and this is a formal affair.  You'll need a suit."

          "Suit?  But, sir—"

          "That's an order, Sergeant."

          "Yes, sir.  But, sir, I…"  He trailed off.

          "You…?"

          "I…  I don't know how to dance, sir."

          Black eyebrows rose in suspicious arcs, then fell back into place.  "I see."  Ironhorse smiled.  "Well, I'm sure there are enough dancers in the unit to take care of this…"  He waited for the relief to flash across the younger man's face, then added, "I'm sure someone will be more than happy to help you learn.  Day after tomorrow, Stavrakos.  In a suit.  Eighteen hundred hours.  My office.  And bring a corsage.  Roses would be nice."

          "Yes, sir," Stavrakos moaned.

"Dismissed, Sergeant."

          "Thank you, sir."

          Ironhorse watched Stavrakos shuffle out.  He could almost feel sorry for the young man.  Taking a twelve-year-old to her sixth grade graduation dance didn't sound like his idea of fun, either.

          However, the point was that Debi had a crush on the sergeant, and if going to the dance with Alexander Stavrakos would make her happy, then by God, Alexander Stavrakos would take her to the dance.  They had taken away enough of the girl's childhood.  They owed her this much.

          Turning back to his desk, Ironhorse slid into his chair and grinned, wondering who would be conducting the crash course in dancing.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "Ouch!"

          "Ah, damn it!  Sorry."

          " _You're_ sorry!  _You_ don't have squashed toes!"

          "It's _not_ my fault.  The Colonel's forcing me to do this."

          Derriman glowered at the younger sergeant.  Lifting one foot tentatively off the floor, he shook it slightly.  Yep, he could still feel his toes – just barely.  They'd be aching soon.

          "If you don't start payin' attention, you're gonna cripple that poor kid."

          "Look, I'm trying, okay?"

          Derriman fought back a smile.  "Yeah, I know.  But I need these toes."

          "How many dances do you think I'm gonna have to dance?"

          Derriman shrugged.  "Don't know.  They didn't have these shindigs when I was in school."

          Stavrakos grinned.  "What'd ya do?  Sit around cave fires and throw bones at each other?"

          The older sergeant scowled.  "Very funny."  He reached out and grabbed Alex's arm.  "Come on.  We've got to get another expert."

          "Who?"

          "Norah!"

          "No!"

          "Yeah?" the female non-com asked, sticking her head into the room.

          "Alex needs more help than I can give him," Derriman said.

          Coleman smiled.  "No problem, Sarge.  I'll just go put on my steel-toed boots."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Stavrakos stood at attention, trying to ignore the stiff collar of his starched shirt as it dug into the back of his neck.  Catching a glance of himself in the hall mirror, he almost smiled.  He didn't look half-bad, if he did think so himself.  Formal suit, charcoal back, with pressed white shirt, bow tie, waistcoat and a single red rose on his lapel.  Not bad at all.

"Wow!"

          Stavrakos felt himself blush from hairline to toes.

          Debi galloped down the stairs, stopping at the bottom to stare.  "That's a cool suit," she breathed.

          "Thanks," he replied nervously.  One hand, coming around from behind his back, presented the corsage of three red roses, baby's breath, fern fronds and red ribbon.

          "Awesome," she breathed.

          Suzanne stepped up, taking the flowers.  "They certainly are."  She smiled at Stavrakos.  "The Army is full of surprises."

          Stavrakos blushed again.  "Yes, ma'am."

          Removing the roses from their box, she pinned them expertly to her daughter's pale green dress.  When she was done, she turned back to the soldier, finding Ironhorse there as well.  A grin flashed across her face.  "Now, Sergeant," she said in a no-nonsense tone.  "I want my daughter back by eleven."

          "Ah, Mom," Debi moaned.

          "Twenty-three hundred," Stavrakos echoed.  "Yes, ma'am."

          "You look lovely, Debi," the colonel said, noting the resulting blush.

          Debi looked tentatively up at Alex.  "Thanks."

          "So, you have a driver and an escort.  Go.  Enjoy."

          Stavrakos nodded solemnly.  "Yes, sir."

          Suzanne and Paul watched the pair leave.  "Do you think he'll ever forgive you?" she asked when the front door closed.

          "Probably not," was Ironhorse's reply before he disappeared into his office.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Stravrakos took a deep breath and silently counted.  One, two, three, four.  One, two, three, four.  One, two, three, four.  One, two, three, four.

          Large blue eyes regarded him with admiration.

          One, two, three, four.  One, two, three, four.  I'll get you, sir.  I'll get you, sir.


End file.
